March 15, 2282
Deep Inside Legion Territory
1128 hours, Pacific Standard Time

"Distance to target."

"One thousand thirty-seven meters, twenty-two-degree negative incline."

The midday Mojave Desert sun beat down into the pause left in the wake of that statement. Three figures occupied a ridgeline overlooking a forward-operating Legion camp near the Arizona-Nevada border. Two laid prone against the warm rocks, one manning the absurdly-deadly Barret M95, the other observing the camp through a harmless spotter scope. The third figure sat against the backside of the hill a few feet down and away from the sniper team, covering against enemy attack.

"Got him," the sniper remarked, focusing the rifle's scope on the bald figure of the supreme commander of Caesar's Legion, Caesar himself. Currently, said leader was lounging atop his throne, a look of amusement on his face as he observed some entertainment that was outside the scope's field of vision. "Smug prick. This day has been long in coming."

"Steady," the spotter replied. "We have to wait until the other sniper teams have their targets. We can't blow it now."

The operation currently taking place, dubbed Operation: UPPERCUT, was one of the most ambitious ones undertaken by the New California Republic in recent memory. Following the rout of the Legion during the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, which saw the death of Lanius, Caesar's top field commander, General Lee Oliver, NCR field commander, determined that it was time to finally take the head from the snake once and for all.

Unfortunately, it was not so simple as merely assassinating Caesar, as NCR Intelligence had long known that the clever bastard had set up a path of succession for the Legion should he die. Thus, Operation: UPPERCUT and its two phases. The first phase had been careful intelligence gathering, finding out how many individuals made up the line of succession, and who and where they were. This alone had taken many months. But with that complete, the second phase had begun. Elite sniper teams had been dispatched to track down each successor as well as Caesar himself. In order to ensure that the Legion's head would be neatly severed, the strikes would be simultaneous. No one assassination would trigger a warning that would allow others to escape to safety. No, all would die at once.

"I've waited two years," the sniper murmured, his breath slowing, preparing himself for the moment. "A few more minutes won't bother me."

Still watching his scope, the spotter nodded slightly. "Good. Rose, call it in."

Down the hill, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, known to most everyone as Cass, nodded without turning away from her observations of the surroundings, and spoke into the radio built into her armor helmet, "CENTCOM, Arclight Two is in position, target has been marked, standing by for confirmation."

"Roger, Arclight Two," the NCR radio operator back at Camp McCarran answered. "Remain on station and stand by, await confirmation that the other teams are in position."

"Copy, CENTCOM, Arclight Two standing by, out." Settling herself more comfortably against the rock she sat upon, she kept one eye on the motion-detecting screen they carried to protect against unwanted visitors, her antique M1 Garand rifle resting ready in her lap. She'd balked a little the first time she'd been handed the weapon and a box of .30-06 ammunition for it by the man known across practically the entire Mojave as 'The Courier,' but she'd grown fond of it over time, and now it was her most cherished weapon, in part because of how efficient she was with it, in part because it was he who had given it to her.

That very courier continued to observe the camp, making notes on a scratchpad beside his spotter scope. "God, I love how stupid the Legion is. All their banners and flags make it so easy to calculate windage." He paused, the scratching of a pencil barely heard over the desert wind. "Okay, we're looking at two knots out of the southwest. Humidity, as usual, is exactly dick."

"Gonna be hard to stay on top of that wind, the way it keeps changing off the mountains," the sniper said.

"Yeah, we're going to have to play it right up to the moment of truth. Should be fine, though. We've done tougher shots. Just don't get emotional."

"You of all people know me better than that, Kain."

Mark Kain smirked. "I'm surprised you haven't started executing the entire camp, Boone."

From below, Cass laughed, "Might be because we only gave him one bullet."

"One's all I need," Craig Boone groused, tapping his shooting finger against the trigger housing of the weapon.

No one responded to that, and so several minutes passed in silence as the trio tended to their assigned tasks. Somewhere overhead, a bird screeched in flight, and the droning buzz of insects fell silent, only to resume once the bird had passed. Down below, the entertainment for Caesar came to an end, and now it seemed they were on to business, as one of his top officers was making some sort of grand oration in the center of Caesar's audience, complete with theatrical gesturing and haughty stances. They watched in silence as about twenty Legion troops were paraded out, a lottery cast, and the two unlucky 'winners' forced to double-execute one another while the remainder watched.

Boone sighed, refraining from shaking his head only to maintain his sighting. "Animals."

"Beat me to it," Mark muttered.

Their helmet radios crackled with static, indicative of an incoming transmission. Boone waited patiently; Mark felt his stomach clench in anticipation. "CENTCOM to all field units. All forces are in place. Commence Operation: UPPERCUT at your discretion. I say again, Operation: UPPERCUT is a go."

All banter and silliness disappeared. It was time to get deadly serious. Mark took a moment to do some more calculations. "Winds shifted. Four knots, south-southeast. Humidity still blank. Acquire target."

Calmly and efficiently, Boone adjusted the position of his sight to account for the wind speed and direction, feeling a cold sensation run through his body as his senses heightened in preparation for the culmination of years of his life fighting against the damned Legion. Settling his finger lightly on the trigger, he said, "Target acquired."

The courier-turned-spotter made one final check, then nodded. "Take."

Beside him, the sound of Boone's exhaled breath was impossibly loud, and then he went still as a stone monument. The NCR sniper closed one eye, and slowly drew back his finger.

Thunder echoed across the hills as the weapon bucked, kicking up a small cloud of dust around the barrel from the recoil gasses. The shot was off, heading toward its fatal rendezvous with Caesar's head.

Through the spotter scope, Mark watched as Caesar's goons began to react to the distant sound of the shot, but it was too little, too late. Without warning, Caesar's head burst like an overripe tomato, showering blood and skull fragments upon the tent canvas behind where the dictator had sat. The body fell from its throne, and the legionnaires were nothing if not quick on the uptake, already beginning to get up in arms.

"Damn good shot!" Mark called as he grabbed his pad and scope and pushed himself backwards from the crest of the hill. "Blew his damn head clean off. Now let's blow this joint!"

Boone had likewise grabbed the sniper rifle, not bothering to eject the spent brass, and shoved himself backwards as well. Below them, Cass was already on her feet at the base of their rocky outcrop, weapon in hand and scanning their surroundings for hostiles. "Beware the Ides of March, fucker," Boone uttered darkly as he slung the heavy sniper over his back, replacing it with a much more wieldy M4A1 scoped special operations rifle.

Cass tossed a similar rifle, this one colored with a woodland camouflage scheme, to Mark, then led the way back toward their extraction point. "Boomer One-One, Arclight Two," she spoke into her radio. "Objective complete, on the path to extraction point Alpha."

"Copy, Arclight Two, we are two minutes out. We'll leave the light on for you."

As the trio ran toward where the transport would pick them up, the shouts and exclamations of the Legion camp rose from the valley, chased by the howls of their war dogs, which may or may not have picked up their trail. They hadn't been able to position themselves fully downwind of the camp.

Clearing a rock formation, with the extraction point in sight, a bullet struck Cass in midstride, clanging from her helmet with an off-key thwack and knocking the former caravaner off her feet. She hit the ground limply, her rifle clattering into the dust.

"Rose!" Mark shouted, skidding to his knees beside her as Boone turned to face the threat, spotting a Legion war party approaching them from two hundred meters away. Boone's rifle chattered as Mark rolled Cass onto her back, a cold sweat dousing his body beneath the heavy Ranger armor. Her armored helmet was dented in heavily by the bullet, but didn't appear to have failed.

"Fuck!" Cass yelled, hands coming up to grab the side of her head. "Anybody get the number of that super mutant?"

"Rose, are you shot?" the courier demanded, grabbing her shoulders. The rattle of Boone's rifle and the hissing and snaps of incoming fire were at the far edge of his perception, all his attention focused on her condition.

The redhead sat up slowly, shaking her head, then groaned. "Oww… No, helmet took all of it. God, this is going to hurt later…" She rolled onto her knees, grabbing her M1 out of the dust and moving to stand, but a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she would've collapsed if not for Mark grabbing her and keeping her upright.

"Hang on, Rose, we're getting out of here," he murmured to her, pulling her right arm over his shoulder and leaning her against him, then moving toward cover as Boone continued to fire.

Once he had pulled her behind another rocky outcrop, he spoke into his radio, "Boomer One-One, Arclight One! We've been engaged heavily by Legion forces. Extraction point Alpha is a bust, moving for Bravo! We're going to need support!"

Boone fell back into the cover of the rock as Mark pulled Cass onward, dropping the expended magazine from his rifle and quickly reloading it, then pulling a fragmentation mine from his pack, arming it, and dropping it at his feet as he moved backward to cover his comrades' retreat.

"Copy, Arclight One. Boomer One-One and One-Two on approach, hot. Mark enemy positions and we'll take 'em out for you."

Moving like a man possessed, almost unhindered by supporting most of Cass' weight, Mark called back over his shoulder, "How many?"

"About twenty," Boone answered calmly, watching the ridges above them for any sign of ambush. "Took three down, the rest should be more cautious."

Ahead, a clearing between two high ridgelines marked the secondary extraction point. Boone pushed ahead of his comrades and dashed out into the clearing, deliberately exposing himself to see if the enemy had baited a trap. Seeing nothing, and confirming this with his motion-detection screen, he dashed back to Mark and Cass, retaking position behind them to face where there were known enemies.

Back in the direction they'd come, an explosion marked that they'd discovered the present he left, which only resulted in more shouting and exclamations, amplified by the natural channels of the ridges until it sounded as though the entire vengeful army of Caesar was coming down on their heads. The explosive surprise apparently didn't deter them much, as not moments later a crimson-armored trooper made a corner and got a 5.56mm hollow-point round to the face for his troubles.

Boone flicked the fire selector of his weapon to automatic, forgoing the highly-accurate ACOG sight in favor of the ability to suppress as more followed, and he sprayed fire at them, keeping his bursts short and concentrated. Return fire hammered the rock walls around him, a few shots even pinging off his armor, but it seemed to be mostly pistol rounds, nothing with enough power or penetration to defeat his armor.

Mark pulled Cass out into the extraction point, heading directly for a low rock outcrop that would at least provide some cover. Neither of them had any doubts that soon the ridges around them would be filled with Caesar's men, and if the extraction didn't get here soon, there'd be nothing left to extract. He laid Cass down behind the rock and handed her her M1, then took a knee beside her and watched the ridgeline. A barrage of bullets heralded Boone bursting out into the clearing, where he tossed a smoke canister behind him and made for their rock.

"Boomer One-One, I've popped red smoke north of our position!" he called out as he ran. "Stand by to engage on my mark!"

Over the clatter of gunfire, and as they began to see white helmets peek over the ridge before them, they could hear the faint sound of rotary drive engines as Boomer One-One answered, "Roger that, I have a visual on the red smoke. Standing by."

Dropping to his knees, Boone slid the rest of the way to where Mark and Cass waited, flipping the selector back to semi-automatic and picking off targets. Fire from the Legion kicked up rock chips and glanced off their armor, every shot wearing down the protection offered by their plates. "Boomer One-One, cleared hot!"

"Roger that, cleared hot." The whine of spinning barrels drowned out the proclamation, "Guns, guns, guns."

A great thunderous cacophony of fully-automatic fire filled the clearing as a vertibird bearing the upswept blue wings design of the Boomers descended into position, the twin miniguns grafted to the sides of the troop bay unleashing devastation on the enemy troops. The rotary aircraft descended into a hover less than twenty feet over the beleaguered soldiers, a guardian angel of death protecting its charges. At a rate of thousands of rounds per minute, the 5mm armor-piercing slugs chewed up Legion soldier, cloth-plate armor, and rock formations with equal ferocity, adding a fine red mist to the red smoke used to mark the enemy's positions.

Behind them, a second vertibird with the same insignia descended down to the canyon floor, keeping its chin turret facing the enemy positions, as well as the two door gunners adding their suppressive fire up toward the ridges to cover the extraction. "Let's go, let's go!" the pilot urged. "This whole damn valley is about to come down on our heads!"

Boone was the first up, continuing to fire on any Legion troops that exposed themselves as he walked backwards toward the transport. After him, Mark helped Cass to her feet, but the redhead pushed the courier forward, signaling that she could now move on her own power. Nodding, he turned toward the vertibird, tapping Boone on the shoulder as he passed, and all three of them ran toward their getaway vehicle.

First aboard, Boone moved across the bay and took the seat furthest from the entry door to allow the others to quickly board. Mark jumped in and took the seat adjacent to Boone, turning back to face the outside just in time to watch Cass tumble forward, the report of a sniper's shot drowned by the roar of miniguns. The former caravaner slammed chest-first into the edge of the troop bay.

"No!" Mark screamed, grabbing Cass' arms to keep her from falling to the ground. He leaned forward and gripped the belt of her armor, in the process spotting the angry hole punched through her armor low on her back, left of her spine and just above her waistline.

Boone grabbed Mark and applied leverage to help him pull Cass into the transport. "Take us up, pilot! Get us back to the nearest base! Arclight Two is hit! Have med teams on standby!"

Not wasting time with a response, the vertibird pilot immediately gained altitude, passing the gunship vertibird as it continued to rain death, and now retribution, onto the hapless Legion soldiers, powerless to penetrate the gunship's armor. The vertibird's engines screamed as the craft rocketed skyward, Cass' form held aboard only by Mark's grip on her belt, her legs dangling free in the sky.